


For The Want Of Five Minutes (And a Locked Door)

by postjentacular



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Domestic Bliss, Gen, H/D Sex Fair 2020, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Parent Draco Malfoy, Parent Harry Potter, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postjentacular/pseuds/postjentacular
Summary: It’s hard enough to get five minutes to yourself in a house of five kids, nevermind getting five minutes with your boyfriend for anything else.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 33
Kudos: 356
Collections: 2020 Harry/Draco Sex Fair





	For The Want Of Five Minutes (And a Locked Door)

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt #[96](https://docs.google.com/document/d/12_5f6f0xUXhqtWfMlhXRyA8kDC3KGShN3oa_IOD12DY/edit#).
> 
> Gracias to the mods for running this shindig and being so generous with their time, and super kudos to my beta - S - who tries to curb my excessive semi-coloning, all remaining mistakes are - as ever - my own.

Harry let the bedroom door close with the softest of clicks, he padded barefoot across the carpet lit by nothing but the soft glow of a single bedside lamp.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Harry replied softly, as he pulled off his joggers, “thought you were asleep.”

“No, I’m up,” Draco said, pulling back the covers on Harry’s side of the bed.

“Oh,” Harry saw the long, lean, _naked_ body of Draco peep out from under the covers, “you’re _up._ ” He pulled off his boxers and dropped them next to his joggers in a pile on the floor. “Don’t you have an early shift in the morning?” he asked, climbing into bed and crawling on top of Draco. Draco spread his legs to let Harry slide easily between them; he trailed a row of kisses along Draco’s collarbone, deliberately letting his stubble tickle one of Draco’s many sensitive spots.

“Kids are asleep, and I can nap in the office tomorrow.”

“You never would,” Harry chided, as he walked his fingers down Draco’s chest and over his stomach, to the patch of curls that sat tantalisingly close to his goal.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “but don’t let that stop you.” He took Harry’s wrist and pulled his hand lower, gasping as Harry moved his kisses up his neck and along his jawline.

“Dad.”

They both froze for a second, hoping that they hadn’t heard what they definitely had.

“Dad.”

Blind hope was no use; Draco dropped his head back onto the pillow as Harry disentangled himself and got out of bed.

“It’s Scorp,” Draco countered, sitting up to get out of bed himself.

“‘s fine,” Harry said, pulling on his joggers, “I’ll get him.” Walking round the bed he stopped at Draco’s side and gave him a quick peck on the forehead. “We can finish this in the morning.”

Outside the door, Scorpius looked much smaller than his four years, with his sleep crusted eyes and wet pyjama bottoms clinging to his legs. “Where’s dad?” Beaky the stuffed hippogriff trailed on the floor behind him.

“Your dad’s sleeping,” Harry said softly, “but I’m here. Can I help you get cleaned up?”

Scorpius nodded slowly and took Harry's proffered hand. In the bathroom, Harry made quick work of filling this bath while Scorpius undressed. In minutes he was clean, dry, and wrapped in a fluffy towel. “Do you need to go to the toilet?” Harry asked.

Albus was still asleep when they got back to the boys' shared bedroom. The two of them had lasted less than a week in their own rooms; after finding the pair of them asleep in the same room four mornings in a row, their dads relented and moved them both into what had been Albus’ room. Instead of the harsh electric light overhead, Harry conjured a small golden nightlight that floated by Scorpius’ head. “Do you want to help with changing the sheets or go get some clean pyjamas?”

“‘jamas,” Scorpius said quietly.

“Okay, off you go,” Harry said, pointing to the chest of drawers. As Scorpius crossed the room with the ball of light floating behind him, Harry stripped the bed with a couple of wand swipes and Accio-ed a dry set of linens from the airing cupboard. He’d magic-ed the sheets on and was plumping the pillows by hand when Scorpius came back in mismatched pyjamas: fire-breathing dragons chased their tails on his legs, and he wore one of James’ old Cannons’ t-shirts on top. “Good choice,” Harry complimented as he helped Scorpius into bed and tucked the duvet under his chin. “Now, how about a story?”

Scorpius pulled Beaky tighter under his arm as Harry sat on the floor and leaned back against the edge of the bed, “A long time ago, in a land far away, there was a kingdom ruled by a foolish king…”

⁂

“Can I try it, plea-ea-ea-se?” Teddy begged. Harry shook his head, no, and took another bite of his sandwich. “Draco, please, please?”

“I appreciate the audacity, Ted, I really do, but if Harry says no, what makes you think I’m going to say yes?”

“It’s a teeny tiny bit of magic, come on. I can’t go to Hogwarts not knowing Levicorpus. Everyone knows it.”

“Teddy,” Harry said with exasperated finality, “we are in a public, _muggle_ , park, you are an underage wizard, you are not going to float any of your siblings for any length of time, no matter how much you beg.”

“But-“

“No buts. I didn’t know any magic until I went to Hogwarts, and I turned out just fine. Now, you can sit down and have a sausage roll, or you can go and play football with the boys.”

Teddy attempted to stare down Harry to no avail, before stomping off.

Draco stretched out on the blanket and chewed on an apple slice, “This is nothing like the first time you brought me here. Second date, remember?”

Harry let out a little laugh, “Vividly. Thought you were going to turn tail and never speak to me again.”

“Can’t lie,” Draco confessed, “it was a distinct possibility. Not planning a repeat are you, Potter?”

“Never. Telling you once that my not-quite ex-wife was six months pregnant with my kid was more than enough.”

“Indeed, not something I’d expected to hear. Certainly wouldn’t want to hear it again.” He held out his hand to help Lily toddle over the blanket to Harry, “No matter how pleasant the outcome.” She threw herself in Harry’s lap with a giggle.

Harry shuffled her around until she was sitting more comfortably in his lap, “You still stayed, though.”

Lily’s grabby hands reached for Draco’s apple slice, he distracted her with a strawberry which she squished till the juice ran through her fingers, “I did, so help me Salazar.”

Harry reached for a baby wipe but Lily was quicker, smearing the strawberry that hadn’t made it into her mouth on her dad’s knee. He waved it away with a quick wandless Tergeo. “So,” said Harry, with a lazy grin, “which one do you reckon he’s trying to float?”

“Bed and bath time for five says it’s Scorpius,” Draco wagered, snagging another piece of apple.

“Uh uh, it’ll be James. He’ll have asked Scorp but James’ll’ve volunteered.”

“You’re on.”

⁂

“I’ll see you at six?” Harry asked as Draco buzzed around the kitchen eating breakfast, packing lunch, catching the cereal Lily was adamant belonged on the floor, and throwing a cleaning spell at the dishes in the sink for good measure. The microwave beeped and he opened the door, sending James’ Ready Brek to the table with a Leviosa; Albus grabbed a spoonful of it before the bowl hit the table. Behind them the hands of the clock on the wall started spinning wildly; Draco rested a hand on James’ shoulder and the hands slowed back to normal.

“Didn’t mean to,” James murmured.

“I know,” Draco replied, just as quietly, “it’s okay.” He took a sip of his coffee and turned to Harry. “Probably before then,” he answered, “Sunday’s are always dead.”

“Good,” Harry caught him with a strong arm around his waist and pulled him close, “we’ve got plans tonight.” He dropped a kiss on Draco’s cheek then grabbed his cup of coffee to finish it himself.

“Like I could forget?” He snatched a Chocolate Frog from the box that sat atop of the fridge out of reach from the kids and dropped it in his lunch bag. “You’re still going shopping?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, “but Muggle, we’ll probably go out to Brent Cross; the boys want to get something for Arthur’s birthday.”

“Better you than me.”

“Well we can’t all be on call for our outstanding coordination of DMLE support, can we?” teased Harry.

Draco’s job would’ve had Lucius rolling in his grave, had he yet had one. Middle management in the public sector was no job for a Malfoy (but then again, neither was being shacked up with a man and five kids at age 30 – even if said man was the Saviour of the Wizarding World and only one of the kids came from a Malfoy's loins, thank you very much). The DMLE Support Coordinator handled all the administration that wasn’t important enough for the Aurors: filing, rostering Obliviators, knowing who was Muggle-savvy enough to come up with a Muggle-worthy excuse when that department were _yet again_ ‘unavailable’, keeping a couple Legilimens on call, making sure the teabags didn’t run out in the staff kitchen, more filing; the important stuff. As glamorous as it wasn’t, Draco was good at it and, Merlin forfend, he enjoyed it — but he’d be damned if he’d ever admit that.

“Scorpius going too?”

“Nah, leaving him here to hold the fort, he’s gonna run some laps of the kitchen with scissors then play with matches; got him a new box just for the occasion,” Harry deadpanned. “Of course he’s coming! Where else would he be‽”

“Sorry,” Draco murmured, “habit.”

“Bad habit,” Harry corrected. “Now get going or you’re gonna be late.” Draco dropped a kiss on the crown of Lily’s head as he headed for the door. “Six,” Harry reminded him.

“Six,” he promised.

It was after eleven before Draco made it home, flooing into the downstairs fireplace to hopefully not wake the rest of the house. Harry was only just awake, somewhere between dozing and snoozing on the sofa, a blanket-wrapped bundle of kid across his lap, with only the fuzzy orange light from the street lamp outside creeping through the edge of the curtains to light the room.

“Sorry,” Draco said in almost a whisper so as not to wake the kid, “busy day, Obliviator emergency. Accidental magic at a muggle shopping centre.”

“At Brent Cross, we know,” Harry nodded to the bundle on his lap.

Draco sat down on the sofa next to the two of them, James wriggled and woke a little. “It’s okay, it’s just Draco,” Harry soothed, “go back to sleep.” James wriggled a bit more, stretching his legs across Draco’s lap.

“Didn’t mean to,” James murmured.

“I know,” Draco replied, just as quietly, “it’s okay.” He tugged the folds of the blanket smooth and tucked them back around James’ legs, then leaned into Harry’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mouthed, “I should’ve realised. Is he okay?”

Harry cast a wandless muffliato, but still didn’t raise his voice above a soft whisper as they sat in the dark. “Shaken up by it, more by the muggles than the magic. They started shouting at him, and then Teddy started shouting back and his hair was flashing red, like his mum’s used to do, and they started to shout at him, then Lils was crying. Aurors showed up first, had to wait about forty minutes on the Obliviators.”

“Sorry, we only had two on call, and they were down in Tintagel tidying up after some pixies; they’re getting all riled up with the Merlin-crazed muggles wandering unchecked through their land. Scorp and Albus?”

“Fine. Better than fine, didn’t even faze them. Better than me at least,” he let out a little laugh. “Turns out I don’t do too well with people shouting at my kids. May have thrown a couple of hexes myself.”

“May have,” Draco tutted. “Obliviators left me another three incident reports to be filed under Potter, H.J. Had to go and find the extra large elastic bands just to keep the file together. I swear if you were anyone else...”

⁂

“Do you hear that?” Harry asked.

“Hear what?” Draco said, slipping his dark teal blazer over his shoulders.

“Exactly, no kids.”

“No kids‽” Draco asked, playing along, “if I’d known that then we’re both far too dressed.” He started to slide his blazer off again.

“Uh uh, no way,” Harry clucked. “We are going out for dinner before any of that.”

Draco smirked. “We have time before dinner as well.”

“We never have time, if we start that now, we’ll never eat and I want something that isn’t pasta or shaped like a dinosaur. I want to have a whole meal without having to hold peace talks or accio peas from nostrils or have food on three separate plates because it just can’t touch! I want dessert to myself. I want wine. Wine, Draco!”

“You do make a valid point, love,” Draco agreed. “Remind me to send the Weasel a thank you note.”

“No need, we’re repaying the favour next Saturday. See how you feel about it after a night with seven of them. Now, get a move on or we’re gonna be late. Reservation’s for seven-thirty.”

“Reservation? You really are spoiling us.”

L’Oliveto was a quiet restaurant tucked away on Cordy Alley far from the hustle and bustle of Diagon; “It doesn’t even do chips,” Harry whispered, gleefully conspiratorial, across the linen clothed table. Draco raised his glass in cheers, over his elegantly scripted menu.

They made it through a platter of _frito misto_ , _Branzino al sale_ , most of a bottle of Pinot Gris, and Draco’s foot getting tantalisingly high on Harry’s thigh before dessert was served. Harry’s spoon edged closer and closer to Draco’s _semifreddo alla nocciola_ – “I thought you didn’t want to share, Potter” – when a spectral Jack Russell bounded over to their table. “Pick up your bloody phones,” it growled in Ron’s voice, before fading back into the ether.

They both pulled their mobiles from their pockets, eleven missed calls and nine voicemails between them. Dinner was over.

It wasn’t Dragonpox, thankfully. First signs of accidental magic, unfortunate recipient of a weak attempt at a bat bogey hex, or just a very powerful sneeze; none of the healers at St Mungos’ could pinpoint the exact cause of the sparks but the one thing they were certain of – after every scan, test, and diagnostic spell possible – was that Lily didn’t have Dragonpox. She went home, cried out and clinging to Draco’s chest; Harry and Ginny by her side.

⁂

“Pick Uncle Ron,” Albus pushed, “he’s the best after Charlie.” He was tucked tightly on the front of Charlie’s broom hovering a few feet in front of Scorpius.

Scorpius chewed his bottom lip, “‘m supposed to pick dad?”

“Nu uh,” James shook his head, himself sitting in front of Bill, “you can pick anyone.”

Scorpius looked around at the mass of ginger that was warming up for piggyback Quidditch in the field behind The Burrow. Teddy and Victoire chasing each other on their brooms just six feet off the ground as they were ‘too old for babysitters’, Rose screaming with joy as Ginny looped and twisted them upside down and downside up, and Ron leaning against his broom at the edge of the action, waiting to be picked.

“Pick Ron,” James urged, “Hurry up! I wanna play!” The grass grew a little faster under the shadow of his broom, daisies blooming like bubbles popping on the top of a boiling cauldron.

Ron looked over at Draco with a questioning head tilt, he returned with a nod and Ron swung his leg over his broom then flew over to Scorpius. “Hey,” he said slowing to a halt, “can I play with you?” He leaned in closer. “I hear you’re the best keeper we’ve got.”

Over by the shed, Harry shuffled a step closer to Draco, letting his arm slide comfortably around his waist. “Seems everyone’s busy.”

“Mm hmm,” Draco agreed, not taking his eyes off the game; the snitch looping around the homemade goal hoops at the far end of the field.

“So they probably won’t notice if we slip away.”

“They probably won’t notice-” Draco whipped round to face Harry, “Potter! We’re at your ex-in-laws, we’re not sneaking away,” he hissed.

“Aren’t we?” Harry cocked an infuriating eyebrow. “Draco!” he shouted, “I can’t believe you’ve never seen a microwave.”

“What are you doing?” Draco said under his breath, through gritted teeth.

“Arthur!” Harry shouted across the lawn, “Would you mind showing Draco your microwaves? He’s never even seen one before, can you believe that‽”

“Yes, I have,” contended Draco with a curl of his lip, “I heated your tea in it this morning.”

“Wanker. You are the worst muggle.”

Arthur looked between Hugo asleep on his shoulder and the shed door, torn. Hugo won out – the grandkids always did. “On you go Harry, you can give him the tour.”

“C’mon,” Harry said tugging at Draco’s wrist, “this way.”

Arthur’s shed was packed with every gadget and device imaginable: blenders sat next to hole punches, tellys and toasters next to wind-up alarm clocks and CD players. A microwave sat on top of a washing machine on the back wall, another on the floor in front of it. “Those,” Harry pointed to them, “are microwaves.”

“Mm hmm,” acknowledged Draco.

“And that,” Harry pointed behind them, “is a locked door. And this,” Harry slid his arms around Draco’s waist, resting his hands on the silver belt buckle, “this-”

“This is good,” finished Draco. He turned in Harry’s arms and twisted his arms around his neck. He leaned in for a kiss, Harry’s mouth opening easily under his soft lips. Harry slid his hands down to Draco’s arse walking him back two paces and hoisting him up the couple of necessary inches to sit on the worktop. Draco wound his legs around Harry’s waist and with a tug pulled their crotches together.

As Harry pushed forward, Draco tried to lie back on the worktop knocking a basket of calculators, three rubber ducks, and a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle to the floor. Harry straightened up and looked at the mess on the floor. “This is weird, right?”

“You noticed.”

“Too weird, right?”

Draco pulled a fourth rubber duck from under his back. “I think so.” He squeezed the duck and it gave a long slow wheeze.

⁂

Harry woke with a jolt as water splashed on his face; he’d fallen asleep in the bath. “Was only resting my eyes,” he claimed.

“Uh huh, Potter,” Draco dropped a kiss on his forehead as he reached across the bath for the shampoo bottle. He poured a dollop of the lemon-scented shampoo into his palm and began to lather it into Harry’s hair.

“Sorry,” Harry said leaning back into Draco’s fingers as they scratched lightly at his scalp, “I shouldn’t have left you to deal with…” he waved his hand vaguely at everything behind the closed bathroom door, “...that.”

“‘s fine, you’ve had them all day-“

“Scor was an angel, but Al… think that’s a new record for a tantrum.”

“Wanting his mum?” Draco asked as he began to rinse.

Harry leaned back into the stream. “Mmm hmm, made it as far as lunchtime before I caved and had Gin take him.”

“Same as usual?”

“Yeah, hyperventilated screaming for me. Didn’t even settle when we were both here. Seems you got him down though.”

“Me, _Finding Nemo_ , same difference.”

“I just don’t know what to do about him, I was so close to losing it, I just…”

Draco slid his hands down to Harry’s shoulders and rubbed at the tight knots. “Hey, we’ll deal with it tomorrow; right now I’ve got a naked boyfriend, a locked door, and five otherwise occupied children.” He trailed a trio of kisses up Harry’s neck as his hand made its way down his chest; the cuff of his shirt getting wet as he pinched a nipple.

Harry’s murmur of pleasure was drowned out by the thumping at the door. “Hurry up! I need to pee.”

⁂

“...and there’s a squid in the lake that you can see from the Slytherin common room, but I dunno if I’ll be in Slytherin cos some people say Slytherins're bad but they’re not all bad, are they Draco? I might be in Gryffindor like my dad and Harry, that'd be cool, but my mum was a Hufflepuff and Gran says I’m just like her, am I like her, Harry? Am I?” Harry barely nodded before Teddy continued, “Don’t think I want to be a Ravenclaw, you’ve gotta solve a riddle before you can get in your common room and, _and_ , you get to play Quidditch every week, if you want to, I want to, I might try out for the house team but Ginny says they don’t let anybody try out until second year, but they let Harry do it in first year and so I’m gonna ask, and they don’t make you learn maths any more…”

_‘Potter.’_

Harry paused in his scooping of broccoli off the tablecloth and back onto Lily’s plate.

_‘Don’t pretend you can’t hear me. I know how shit you are at occlumency.’_

_‘I’m not shit.’_

_‘It’s amazing how I could hear the huff in that sentence.'_

Harry thought very hard about flicking the Vs.

 _‘I was remembering.’_ Draco sounded almost wistful; Harry wasn't convinced for a second.

_‘Remembering?’_

_‘The first time you brought me here.’_

_‘After our third date.’_

_‘We had dinner in Brick Lane then walked to the river,’_ Draco narrated over images of their date. _‘Then you brought me back here and fucked me over this very table.’_

Harry flushed, _‘Draco! You can’t say that! The kids are here!’_

 _‘They can’t hear me, Potter. Although they probably heard you up in Scotland the next morning when I returned the favour right there.’_ He stretched his arm over the empty chair next to him. _‘Heard you begging for my cock. You took it so well, like you were born to be fucked. No one has ever screamed my name so prettily. You love it don’t you? I mean, your mouth is sinful but you hardly make a noise when I stuff it.’_ He pulled forward a memory of Harry on his knees, lips stretched wide around his cock able to do little more than grunt as Draco fucked his throat. _‘I like you loud.’_ The memory flashed away to be replaced with Harry bent over the kitchen table, the morning after their third date, coffee brewing on the stovetop and toast getting cold on the table, screaming Draco’s name for the first time.

 _‘Draco.’_ The warning was sharp.

_‘I miss you loud.’_

_‘Draco.’_ He softened. _‘I miss you loud too. How long till we have the place to ourselves? They’ll all be eighteen in what, sixteen years?’_

_‘They’ll all be at Hogwarts in nine.’_

⁂

Harry tucked the bunch of tulips under his arm as he juggled the wine, take-away, and his front door key. “Draco?”

“Living room.”

Harry opened the door with a swing of his hip. “Hey love, I got wine and take-away from that Thai place you like and…” he trailed off when he saw the pair of four year olds standing in the corner. Draco sat primly on the sofa reading, “...and these.” He held out the crumpled tulips.

“What’s with that?” he nodded to the boys, “Aren’t they supposed to be at The Burrow.”

“There was a slight incident,” Draco said, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table. “Albus, please tell your father what happened.”

Albus turned around and stared directly into his dad’s eyes. “I punched Rose,” he said with no remorse.

Harry put the wine, take-away, and crumpled flowers on the coffee table next to Draco’s book and crouched down to Albus’ level. “Why’d you do that, Al?”

“She said Sc’pus isn’t my real brother so he can’t stay at Grandma and Grandpa’s with us.”

“I see,” Harry said.

“He is my brother,” Albus insisted, “’s better than James.”

“He is your brother,” Harry confirmed. “Did you say sorry to Rosie for hitting her?”

He shook his head.

“You need to say sorry, you know that.”

“She didn’t say sorry!”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Draco confirm Albus’ story. “Okay,” Harry took a breath, “do you know what you did wrong?” Albus nodded. “I need your words, Al.”

“Yes.”

“And what are you going to do to make it better?” Harry prompted.

“Gonna say sorry to Rosie.”

“And how will you stop it happening again?”

“Usemywords,” Albus said, in a rush.

“That’s right, you need to use your words. If it happens again you come and find me or mum or Draco, okay?” Albus nodded. “We’ll call Rosie in the morning and you can say sorry then, yes?”

“Yes,” he agreed meekly.

Harry gave him a hug then asked, “Do you want to go and watch some telly now?” Albus and Scorpius both nodded. “Okay, upstairs with both of you, I’ll bring up some dinner soon.”

The boys ran out of the room as Harry flopped down on the sofa next to Draco. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Draco said. “Was it too much?”

“Was what too much?”

Draco waved his hand towards the corner where the boys had stood, “That?”

“Nah,” Harry shook his head, “not sure why you punished Scorpius though?”

“I didn’t. He refused to leave Albus’ side. I spoke to Hermione as well; never seen her mortified before. Wouldn’t want to be her daughter tonight.”

Harry smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You called her Hermione.”

“Fuck off, Potter.” He elbowed him gently in his side, then turned serious again. “You sure? He’s not...mine.”

Harry sat up and turned to look him straight in the eye, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever even think that. You’re as much Al and Lily and James and Ted’s parent as me or Gin. Got that?”

Draco nodded, “Yeah. I know. And you know you are-”

Harry shut him up with a quick hard kiss. “I know. I also know they both hate tom kha, so you know what that means?” he asked as he got up and grabbed for the bag of take-away. “They’ll be sharing your pad thai."

⁂

“I think they're jumping on the bed.”

“Nu-uh, you're not allowed to jump on the bed cos you'll break your neck. Mum says so.”

“But they're grown-ups, mum can't give them into trouble.”

“'s not fair.”

“Well go and tell them, then.”

“Can’t, door’s locked.”

“I'm hungry.”

“I know where the chocolate frogs are.”

“Levicorpus!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


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